Jul. 6—Smoke rose from the mountain, but the radio calls met with silence.
Canfield Mountain, an iconic baby peak on the east side of Coeur d’Alene that is visible from Spokane, is known, according to firefighters, for having particularly bad radio reception.
It’s why when three firefighters never responded to initial radio calls in the early afternoon of June 29, it didn’t raise an iota of concern.
The crews had earlier driven a brush truck up to investigate the source of a reported wildfire just above Canfield’s upper parking lot. Still lacking a response, a battalion chief from Northern Lakes Fire District drove up to the crews to physically make contact and find out what they had learned about the source of the fire.
Instead, he entered a killing field.
“SEND LAW ENFORCMENT RIGHT NOW. THERE’S AN ACTIVE SHOOTER ZONE,” the battalion chief screamed into his mic. “EVERYBODY’S SHOT UP HERE. LAW ENFORCEMENT, CODE 3 NOW UP HERE.”
By this point, it’s believed the shooter, later identified as 20-year-old Wess Roley, had already killed 52-year-old Coeur d’Alene Fire Battalion Chief John Morrison and 42-year-old Battalion Chief Frank Harwood, of Kootenai County Fire and Rescue.
Coeur d’Alene Fire engineer David Tysdal, 47, suffered two shotgun wounds to the chest. He remained in his vehicle as the Northern Lakes battalion chief hid behind a fire rig and used his radio to let the world know their crews were being ambushed by gunfire.
In the week following the shocking killings, The Spokesman-Review pieced together a detailed chronological timeline of the attacks using law enforcement interviews and dispatch records.
At first, the Northern Lakes firefighter, whom The Spokesman-Review has agreed not to name at the request of his chief and others, told dispatchers to get firefighter units away from the area because he didn’t know the full scope of the threat.
“UPPER PARKING LOT. Up on the dirt parking lot. We need law enforcement up here immediately,” he said, according to the recorded 911 communications. “Careful, we’ve got another Coeur d’Alene firefighter down. We need law enforcement immediately, immediately.”
“Copy. Firefighter down, we need law enforcement,” the dispatcher responded.
Tysdal, bleeding from his two wounds, then found his radio.
“I’m down,” Tysdal said as the shooter fired three successive rounds that can be heard in the background of the radio call. “Vehicle’s broke down. I can’t move.”
Northern Lakes got back on the radio.
“We are all at the upper parking lot. Please, law enforcement as soon as possible. Get law enforcement up to the parking lot.”
Those calls prompted a massive effort of helicopters, armored vehicles, paramedics and law enforcement officers who raced to the scene. They faced the task of figuring out how to enter an active shooting situation and bring the firefighters to safety.
But they had the battalion chief telling them everything they needed to know.
“His presence of mind saved multiple lives,” Pat Riley, chief of Northern Lakes Fire District, said of his battalion chief. “It’s going to be commendable. There is no doubt that it stopped the loss of life. It stopped the killing and it minimized a tragic incident.
“There was no more clearer direction I have heard in my entire career.”
Agonizing wait
While the audio of the 911 calls reflected all fire department calls, dispatch opened a second radio net for law enforcement that was not broadcast over open channels.
Until the full investigation is released by the Kootenai County Sheriff’s Office, the full picture of the drama won’t be known.
But based on the partial emergency calls, the battalion chief kept updating dispatch as to perceived threats and needed assets. At one point, Northern Lakes asked to make sure to have five ambulances ready to move patients.
And Tysdal, despite his serious wounds, also radioed out information.
About three minutes after the battalion chief’s first alert, Tysdal said: “I have not had any response from the two battalion chiefs,” referring to Morrison and Harwood. “I’m inside the rig. I need help. I don’t see anybody around me, but … green, like, military, maybe veteran-type clothing.
“He shot us with a shotgun,” Tysdal said into the radio.
A minute later, the Northern Lakes battalion chief added: “We need law enforcement up here … to get the two wounded out. I’m pinned down behind Battalion One’s rig. It’s clear to me that this fire was set intentionally to draw us in.”
The dispatcher asked Northern Lakes if he wanted Life Flight Network to launch a helicopter.
“I’m not 100% sure where they would land, but I think they need to be prepared to launch,” he said.
Four ambulances were then staged at North 15th Street and East Nettleton Gulch Road.
The battalion chief then warned other responders not to use the lower parking lot at Canfield Mountain.
Seven minutes after his initial call, Northern Lakes made another query.
“Central, BC-5. Where is law enforcement? Where is law enforcement?”
The dispatcher responded: “Law enforcement is in the area trying to make contact.”
At the 10-minute mark, he asked again. “I don’t know if they are coming up the road or not, but I really need help up here.”
He then described where in the road the officers would find the fire equipment.
“Maybe they could pull up, and we could get to the Coeur d’Alene firefighter … hurt,” he said.
At the 12-minute mark after the first warning, Tysdal got back onto his radio.
“I can’t move anything,” he said. “The bleeding is getting worse.”
The dispatcher acknowledged and told him: “Law enforcement is trying to get to you now.”
A minute later, a radio call first reported that a SWAT team had arrived.
As they waited, Northern Lakes radioed Tysdal: “How are you, buddy?”
Tysdal replied, “I need help.”
Northern Lakes continued requesting help.
“We need to get the Coeur d’Alene firefighters that are down.”
About 20 minutes after Northern Lakes made the first emergency call, it appeared Tysdal was struggling. He made a radio call, but the words were unintelligible.
“Central. Ask law enforcement if they have a drone over the upper parking lot,” Northern Lakes asked a couple minutes later. “I see a drone directly overhead.”
The dispatcher responded: “That is a drone for law enforcement.”
At about the 23-minute mark, the dispatcher finally told Northern Lakes that troops are coming.
“We are actively working on a BearCat getting up to you safely. We have units in the area trying to get to you,” she said.
“Copy that,” Northern Lakes responded. “We really need to get the Coeur d’Alene guys. There is one confirmed wounded and he’s about 40 feet from me. If we can get a unit up there, we can block and at least drag him down to an ambulance.”
While it’s not reflected in the fire dispatch, law enforcement appears to have finally reached the area.
About 27 minutes after the first alert, dispatch sent a message: “Break from Central. There are more shots being fired.”
A few seconds later, more shots were fired, “per law enforcement on scene.”
On the recorded log, a new speaker got on the net: “Notify Kootenai Health. Let them know we have multiple patients being transported to them.”
‘Your people’
Riley said he was waiting at the lower parking lot to extract his friend. Northern Lakes paramedics, decked out in tactical gear, had gone in and helped pull the battalion chief out of the active shooting zone.
“Every bit of this is a big bag of suck,” Riley said. “I went in to get my battalion chief who was pinned down by gunfire.”
Riley then took the battalion chief, in Riley’s own rig, to the hospital.
“He was uninjured, at least physically,” Riley said of his battalion chief. “And his first request was to go to the hospital. I asked him, ‘Are you hurt?’ He said, ‘No. I need to check on Dave Tysdal. He saved my life.’ “
Riley made sure the two men were able to speak, and he then took the battalion chief back to his station.
When the first fire calls went out, they caught the attention of former Coeur d’Alene Fire Chief Kenny Gabriel through an app on his phone that allows him to listen to fire calls. He heard the battalion chief’s frantic first calls for help.
“I went to administration. Once you are a chief, you are always a chief. Once they are your people, they are always your people,” Gabriel said. “Things unfolded from there.”
Rather than going to the scene, Gabriel said he went to help coordinate things at the office.
“From that point on, my attention turned to the Morrison family,” he said.
He’d known John Morrison from Morrison’s first day in 1996.
“We knew that he was up there and we knew neither he nor Frank (Harwood) were answering calls on the radio,” Gabriel said. “I had heard that people were going to the hospital. Then we got more information about what was going on at the hospital.”
Gabriel got to the hospital just after emergency crews brought in Tysdal.
“Nobody had any idea how many more patients were coming in. (Hospital officials) were ready to go. He was being taken care of by a through-the-roof, absolutely terrific team,” Gabriel said. “It was a raise-the-hair-on-the-back-of-your-neck moment.”
Gabriel was able to find Morrison’s wife. He was there as hospital staff informed her of her husband’s fate.
“It was devastating. Just absolutely devastating,” Gabriel said. “My instinct kicked in. The family is where my energy was then and still is right now.”
‘Let that moment be theirs’
Crews got the call of reports about the fire at 1:21 p.m. They made their way up the mountain, where they came across the suspect, Roley, and talked to him about moving his vehicle. By 2 p.m., firefighters screamed over their broadcast system they were being shot at, Kootenai County Sheriff Bob Norris has said.
Within the next 20 minutes, the scene at the bottom of Canfield Mountain was controlled chaos — more than 300 members of law enforcement worked out of multiple white tents coordinating the search area. Groups of deputies and police officers from Washington to Montana got in and out of armored trucks, white trailers and black tinted cars. Citizens stood by to quietly watch.
People on the mountain were being evacuated, and those who lived nearby were urged to stay inside. There was no telling if law enforcement was still shooting at the suspect — communication with the sheriff’s office had gone relatively silent while they worked around the clock.
At some point, law enforcement pulled a fire vehicle off the mountain with flat tires. Police and deputies had run into the brazen scene to pop them in an effort to prevent the suspect from hijacking the car and escaping, officials said later. They also pushed the suspect’s vehicle off an embankment with a SWAT vehicle. Investigators at the time were working with information there could be multiple shooters with high-powered guns, even though it wasn’t true.
Investigators discovered Roley had shot the firefighters after he spoke with them and then fled into the tree line. Law enforcement exchanged gunfire with Roley, who was believed to have perched himself in a tree. The exchange was fairly brief, according to law enforcement. Gunfire likely ceased at some point around 3 p.m. After the sound went quiet, drones and helicopters flooded the area, looking beyond the trees with helicopters and drones for where Roley could have run to.
The fire, presumed to be started by the suspect to lure the firemen there, was still burning. Smoke was cascading over the trees and onto the highway.
The fallen firefighters , who remained on the mountain after the barrage of gunfire, were retrieved between 5 and 6 p.m., according to law enforcement. Fire dispatch records are timestamped from each call, but they don’t reflect when the shootings and calls from the battalion chief were made in real time.
Roley, who was described as wearing “outdoor” clothing at the time of the shooting, was said to have had a “modern-day sporting” weapon. Tysdal identified the weapon as a shotgun during the attack, according to dispatch records.
Investigators were able to home in on a cellphone that had pinged on the mountain at 3:16 p.m., Norris said. When they traced the phone at 7:30 p.m., they found Roley dead with a self-inflicted gunshot wound and the firearm under his body.
Law enforcement had to act quickly to remove his body because the wildfire was encroaching at high speeds, Norris has said. It took about an hour and a half to recover him from the mountain.
Roley’s truck was still in the middle of an active crime scene partly torched from the wildfire as of earlier last week. It’s since been removed so police can conduct a thorough search of the inside.
Roley, who had been in the area “for the better part of 2024,” was also known to police, but not for any significant crime. The Kootenai County Sheriff’s Office had three “interactions” with Roley, and the Coeur d’Alene Police Department reported two. Each interaction was minimal, like for trespassing or a welfare check, and Roley was cooperative, Norris said.
Norris also released a photo from Roley’s Instagram that showed Roley in camouflage clothing with a shotgun shell belt. It’s similar to the description that Tysdal gave dispatchers during the shooting.
“These firefighters did not have a chance,” Norris said at a news conference after the shooting.
As Spokane County Sheriff John Nowels watched from the command post near Canfield while crews transported the fallen firefighters off the mountain, he took note of the expressions on their faces.
“I could see it,” Nowels said. “This wore on them … They’re people that put on their uniform every day, but they’re not supposed to face that.”
Asked to describe the moment, Nowels sighed.
“Let that moment be theirs,” Nowels said.
The responding forces included 40 members from Spokane County, including their air resources.
Nowels said he noticed many of them were personalizing the tragedy as they worked.
“You just can’t be involved, that up-close, without personalizing it,” he added.
Earlier that day, Nowels wasn’t working. But when he got the call, he threw his uniform on and raced across the border to Idaho. Hours later, as he waited at the bottom of the mountain, he joined officials and waited for more answers from the crews, “who did not shy away from danger,” he said.
“I remember sitting at the command post, trying to determine if he was deceased,” Nowels said of the shooter. “I looked at other leaders and asked, ‘Why?’ Why would you kill defenseless firemen?’ “